


Should I Stay or Should I Go?

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-02-05
Updated: 2001-02-05
Packaged: 2018-11-11 05:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11141595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Ray Kowalski's thoughts about Ray Vecchio.





	Should I Stay or Should I Go?

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Rated PG 

 

****

Rated PG

Alliance legally owns these characters; I am just borrowing them for a little harmless, not-for-profit fun. 

****

SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO?

 

What am I doing here? Really, what in the hell am I doing here? Am I nuts? Easy answer- yes. I am completely insane. Before this maybe there was some room for doubt, but this proves it. I'm certifiable. Stick a fork in me, I'm done. 

I'm leaving. I am. I'm getting the hell out of here _now_ , while I still can. Why did I come here in the first place? What in the hell was I thinking? 

From the moment I met him, the guy has driven me nuts. And not in a good way. He irritates the shit out of me. He knows it, too; and I swear to God he does it on purpose. 

It's like he keeps bugging me and irritating me and pushing me until I lose it, then he stands there smiling at me like he's enjoying the show. 

Maybe he _is_ enjoying the show. The way he looks at me then... maybe he thinks I'm... Oh my God. Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up!! That's it. I'm leaving. I am. I am out of here. 

Shit... what if he does he think I'm... what if he wanted me to come here? 

 

It's not like I haven't thought about it- thought about _him_. Come on. I'm a healthy, red-blooded man. I've seen the way he moves, the way he walks. But it's his eyes that get me every time. They're so expressive. And beautiful. Shit! 

Okay, okay... I'm leaving. 

Damn him to hell! He's toying with me. He has to be. Why else would he have left that matchbook lying around where anyone could see it? A matchbook, for God's sake! He doesn't even smoke! 

Okay, okay, so technically it wasn't out where anyone could see it. It was in his desk drawer, under a bunch of junk. But he knows I'm always going in there to get a pen. If he didn't want me to find it, he sure as hell wouldn't have put it in his desk drawer, would he? 

That wasn't the smartest thing to do. Leaving that in a place where anyone could find it. I mean, everyone knows what this place is, that this bar caters to a "certain kind of clientele". A male clientele. The kind of male who wouldn't mind getting laid by the other male clientele. Christ! 

I was an idiot to come here. I'm leaving. I'm... oh, shit! There he is! He's here. He's here, sitting at the bar, drinking a gin and tonic. Or maybe it's just a tonic. 

I take a few steps towards the bar without really meaning to. He takes another sip of his drink and I watch him swallow, and I almost stop breathing. Oh God, what else wouldn't I like him to swallow. 

Oh God, I'm leaving. I have to. I have to leave before- 

SHIT!! 

He sees me! He sees me. He looks over and spots me and his eyes widen and then they light up. Light up? Nah, it's gotta be a reflection from the lights behind the bar. 

But then he smiles and gets off his barstool and starts walking towards me. As he walks across the room his smile gets bigger and bigger; until he's standing in front of me grinning from ear to ear. And his eyes- God, his eyes _are_ lit up. They're sparkling. 

"Hey stranger," he says, "can I buy you a drink?" 

****

THE END 

Comments welcome.


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